Skip to main content

For "Schitt's" Fans

My favorite scene in "Schitt's Creek" (so far) concerns Alexis and her boyfriend, Mutt (Season Two).

Alexis is continuously at war with herself--this is a by-product of being human--so, when she says, "I think it's great how we can just be in silence together," we know she actually means the opposite.

"It's wonderful, our not-talking" becomes--obviously--a form of talking.

When Mutt won't engage, Alexis loses her cool. "I think we can see that we both need to change here," she says. "I need to talk less and listen more, and you need to talk more and listen less."

A sensible, elegant solution--but people aren't always willing to be treated as pawns. Mutt might recognize the logic behind Alexis's proposal, but he can't rearrange furniture within his psyche just to become a more-acceptable boyfriend.

What's especially sharp about this moment: Mutt conveys his objection without words. Form matches content. Mutt's wordlessness says: "I'm just going to continue to be who I am, and this is the nicest way I can imagine to convey what is on my mind."

Character revealed through dialogue (or, in this case, lack of dialogue). Wonderful--and a strange, hyper-detailed examination of the give-and-take that happens in any relationship, a kind of examination we're not used to seeing in a sitcom.

The writer--here--is the brilliant Daniel Levy, who has other inspired moments throughout the series. It's Levy who chooses to finesse an awkward discussion of pansexual habits with language we might use in a wine shop: "I drink red wine, yes. But sometimes I drink white wine. And sometimes I'll drink a red that started out as a rose.....and, you know, changed...."

Terrific. It's also Levy--I think--who chose to have two formerly-close frenemies sign off icily: "Best wishes. Warmest regards."

And Levy is fond of the show's biggest tic--a tic maybe too-often-employed--the Jonathan Franzen-esque use of "so." "I'll be leaving now, so." "That's not the way it will work, so." "I don't handle fever well, so." This aggressive, irritating use of "so"--demanding that the listener make a conclusion the listener may not want to make--is a big source of comedy in the show. Specifically, the listener's half-knowing obtuseness--"I'm NOT going to make that conclusion"--is the thing that generates the laughs.

Who says you can't see profundity in a silly comedy? Take that up with Emily Nussbaum. I'm--more and more--impressed by "Schitt's Creek."
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...
3 comments
Read more

Raymond Carver: "What's in Alaska?"

Outside, Mary held Jack's arm and walked with her head down. They moved slowly on the sidewalk. He listened to the scuffing sounds her shoes made. He heard the sharp and separate sound of a dog barking and above that a murmuring of very distant traffic.  She raised her head. "When we get home, Jack, I want to be fucked, talked to, diverted. Divert me, Jack. I need to be diverted tonight." She tightened her hold on his arm. He could feel the dampness in that shoe. He unlocked the door and flipped the light. "Come to bed," she said. "I'm coming," he said. He went to the kitchen and drank two glasses of water. He turned off the living-room light and felt his way along the wall into the bedroom. "Jack!" she yelled. "Jack!" "Jesus Christ, it's me!" he said. "I'm trying to get the light on." He found the lamp, and she sat up in bed. Her eyes were bright. He pulled the stem on the alarm and b...
1 comment
Read more

My Favorite Pop Song

  One thing I admire about Prince is his weirdly pretentious verses: Dream, if you can, a courtyard-- An ocean of violets in bloom. Also: Touch, if you will, my stomach. Feel how it trembles inside. No one else writes like this. Did people try to shoot down these choices? Did a producer say, "We'd like to rethink this one... Touch, if you will, my stomach...."  I can't help but wonder. But it's the chorus that makes this a classic. It's direct and universal--and it ends with that bizarre flourish, the allusion to "the crying doves." (Prince's song was number one in America for quite a while; it defeated Bruce Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark.") How can you just leave me standing-- Alone in a world that's so cold? Maybe I'm just too demanding. Maybe I'm just like my father--too bold. Maybe you're just like my mother; She's never satisfied. Why do we scream at each other? This is what it sounds like when doves cr...
Post a Comment
Read more